


Moonlighting

by Dubnoreix



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse), NivanField - Fandom
Genre: Drunk Chris, Drunk Piers, Drunk Sex, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Yep that kind of story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-07
Updated: 2017-03-07
Packaged: 2018-09-30 07:41:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10157753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dubnoreix/pseuds/Dubnoreix
Summary: Before Edona, Alpha Team and their Captain go for a night of drinking. Chris overhears Piers describing about a man he's in love with and becomes extremely jealous.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RedfieldandNivans](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedfieldandNivans/gifts).



Title: Moonlighting

Summary: Before Edona, Alpha Team and their Captain go for a night of drinking. Chris overhears Piers describing about a man he's in love with and becomes extremely jealous. 

Disclaimer: I do not own Resident Evil 6. 

"Captain!"

Chris Redfield peeled his tired brown eyes from his piled reports and up at his bubbling underling, Jeff. The young man was all smiles as he approached the desk, brown eyes falling on his two superiors leaning over their mountains of paper.

"What do you want, Jeff?" asked Piers in his usual cold tone without even glancing away from his gleaming computer. "We're busy working. Hurry it up.”

Swallowing in nervousness, the young BSAA Operative shifted from one foot to the other, then regarded the less scary of the two, Chris. “Me n’ the guys were gonna go out to the bar. We’d love to have you there!”

Dropping his pen on his cluttered desk, the Captain leisurely leaned back in his creaky swivel chair, stretching out the thick ropes of muscle in his arms and his abdomen. “The bar, huh…?” A good drink sounded amazing after a ten-hour-day in the office, his sore eyes and aching back begging for Chris to give them a break. “Sounds nice.”

The ticking emanating from Piers’ keyboard halted dead as the marksman whirled around. “What? Captain, we have to finish these reports—”

“I can finish them on Monday, we’re only a few away from being done. Plus, I’ll have a clearer head with some sleep in me,” said the Captain as he spun around to face his sniper fully. Their office was a clusterfuck of two simple desks and filing cabinets thrown on either side of the small room, a single window, and an unreal amount of paperwork (mostly finished and yet to be organized) piled everywhere. A Smith and Wesson calendar was pinned to the west wall, with a few other photos of Claire, Jill, Piers, Chris, and Alpha team surrounding it. The little bit of color helped remind them not to get buried in the ever-consuming amounts of paperwork. 

True to his youth, Piers managed to stay focused and on task all day, while the Captain fought with himself not to turn a bathroom break into a twenty-minute walk around the building. If Chris let him, Piers would probably be here all night to finish both his and the Captain’s work.

“But Captain…” started Nivans, his handsome face scrunching with annoyance. Then, the ace huffed and snapped back around to his computer. “Fine. Have fun. I’ll see you on Monday.”

Despite himself, the larger male smirked, his brown eyes sweeping over to Jeff who shrugged his shoulders. Getting to his feet, Chris grabbed both his and the stubborn sniper’s jacket hanging next to the door and tossed it over the young man’s head. “I don’t think so, Jack. Get up and let’s go. We both need a break.”

Tugging the coat over his head with a growl, Piers retorted, “Unlike some people, I have work to finish and I’d rather not—Captain!”

Without warning, Chris circled a single, burly arm around Nivans’ chest and heaved the younger male up with ease. Dragging Piers from his chair, the Captain flicked out the lights and shut the office door, all through the aggravated protests emitting from beneath his powerful bicep. 

“Let me go! Captain! That’s not fair!” 

“We’re ready,” said Chris to the seven other snickering males waiting for them. 

“Dammit Captain! Let go me already! I’ll go, I’ll go!”

Piers growled with annoyance as the giant man ignored him, pulling him along like an ornery child. This is crap. Nivans disliked going out to pay for overpriced beer, only to be interrupted by hooting, drunken fools who were watching football reruns. Plus the cigarette smoke, poor bar food, and uncomfortable chairs...he couldn’t understand why Alpha team did it every Friday night. 

It wasn’t until they were all piled into Chris’ pickup that he finally released the heated sniper, who disdainfully jerked on his coat while glaring at his still-smirking Captain.

“Lighten up, Nivans!” exclaimed Reid, throwing a lanky arm around his superior’s shoulder from the car seat behind him. Piers’ death stare made the operative sink and shy away, mumbling, “I mean...sir.”

“C’mon, Piers,” said Chris with a single nod as he put the vehicle into gear. “It’s hard enough getting you to come out with us. Let a load off tonight.”

Huffing, Nivans chose not to answer. As the truck pulled out from the base and onto the empty street, the Captain peered over to see the aggravated ace staring out the front windshield with an unreadable expression. Dusk was sinking under the horizon and threw reddish-purple shadows over the smooth lines of Piers’ strong jaw and full lips, releasing little butterflies into Chris’ stomach. Damn. Returning his attention to the road, the Alpha team leader thought better than to do that again—but damn him if the kid wasn’t good looking. That’s why he was forced to put his desk on the other side of the office, otherwise he would spend all day watching Nivans’ focused eyes and the perfect curve of his neck. Piers didn’t need to do anything to distract the Captain.

The few minutes getting to the bar seemed like an eternity as Chris contemplated if he should get a little friendlier with the ace. For the past three years, he witnessed Nivans transform from an uncertain—yet motivated—novice to a hard, driven lieutenant. In the beginning, Chris saw Piers as he saw Claire—someone to watch over, to guide, and offer wisdom. As the young sniper grew in confidence and skill, however...something else dawned in the Captain that he couldn’t ignore. Little things, like his heart speeding up, his abdomen tightening, or the warmth that would glow in his chest whenever Piers smiled.

Gnawing on his bottom lip, the Captain knew there was a problem, though. Piers was part of Alpha Team and a deeper relationship than just “Captain-Lieutenant” could cause a problem in the field. If anything escalated, they would be forced to keep it under the radar and Chris wasn’t entirely sure he wanted put Nivans through that hardship, romantic feelings aside. 

Smoothly drawing the truck into an empty space, the Captain parked the hulking locomotive with a dark frown. 

Piers noticed the hardened expression on Chris’ face, half wondering if he might’ve pissed off the larger man (no thanks to his bullheaded attitude). It wasn’t the first instance he flat-out refused to join Alpha team in their drinking escapades, but maybe he did it one too many times…maybe Chris was regretting bringing him along. The other members of Alpha were laughing and talkative as they piled out from the truck bed and cab, wandering to the entrance of the local bar. Piers waited for Chris to lock the black pickup, the Captain resuming his smiley nature as they followed the others.

“Seriously though,” said the Captain as he patted Piers’ back while they walked, “let loose a little. You deserve it, big shot.”

“Yeah, yeah…” mumbled the brunette, flushing a little. So he’s...not mad? That scowl had been rather fierce, making the ace wonder what the Captain had been dwelling over. Chris could be so difficult to read sometimes. 

Chris smiled as he allowed Piers to enter the bar ahead of him, striding into a warm—if not hazy—brick building covered with peeling band posters and other propaganda. Collecting at a large wooden table, a wisp of a girl arrived at their table to greet the heavy males and take their orders. Three pitchers of beer (to start), with fried pickles and hot wings and other assortments of bar food. Piers didn’t really feel all that hungry.

Once the waitress disappeared, the chatter and joking came in...as did Nivans’ mild form of social anxiety. Yes, he was good at leading...and ordering...and focusing...befriending, though? Not so much. To be honest, although a bit sad, he didn’t really...know his team all that well. He knew their profiles, their strengths, their weaknesses, and their history. Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough, if the painful nervousness in his belly said anything.

Perhaps the only thing good about Nivans’ demise was no-one noticed how quiet he was being, overtaken by blathering about M-16’s and this smokin’ girl’s butt and jumping a HUMVEE high enough to snap the sway bar. Once the beer arrived, Piers found himself eager to busy his hands and mouth.

“You alright, Lieutenant?” wondered Chris under his breath.

“I’m fine,” murmured Nivans quickly.

“Hungry?” 

Piers shook his head, gulping down a large amount of the honey-colored beer. The Captain wasn’t an idiot, though, noticing how nervous the ace sniper was by his fidgeting hands and tense expression. Chris felt mildly guilty for thrusting Nivans into an environment he wasn’t really comfortable in—despite that, his inner bear was thoroughly enjoying sitting close enough to Nivans to breathe in his musky cologne, their knees barely brushing. He found himself smiling, also swallowing half his beer in one go. Once Piers has a few in him, he’ll feel better.

By the time Chris polished off his second beer, the food arrived, as did nine empty plates. From end to end, the table was filled with steaming appetizers and entrees. The Captain’s stomach reminded him how empty it was by a loud roar, enticing a few chuckles from his buzzed cohorts.

“Dig in, boys,” said Chris with a brown, quirked eyebrow. “Have you ever had fried pickles, Piers?”

The lieutenant quickly shook his head, still aiming to be as small as possible, even after three beers. However, everyone seemed to notice, despite all his measures to be invisible.

“Try one, Nivans!”

“You’ve got to try them, sir.”

“They’re not as gross as they seem.”

“You guys are gross,” grumbled the ace with the toss of his head. “You all probably eat deep-fried oreos and twinkies too, don’t you?”

Marco didn’t fall into the trap, instead cocking a grin at his superior. “Try one and say that. C’mon, sir.”

Nivans paused, glaring at the plate, then glaring at the men who silently waited for him to act. Sighing haggardly, he reached across and grabbed one, popping it into his mouth as he sat back in his chair with crossed arms. Everyone paused for his reaction, Piers blushing at having eight pairs of eyes staring at him (no thanks to a certain Captain).

“Alright...well, it wasn’t terrible—” The team burst into triumphant laughter, causing Nivans to go beet red in the face. “—Shut up!”

“Eat up, Piers,” chuckled Chris as he handed his partner a plate.

Anger fizzling out without any hope of returning, the young sniper sighed and took the dole. Oh well. The alcohol was easing the lines of tension at the corners of his mouth, relaxing his wound-up thoughts enough to maybe...possibly...get a little more involved. Only because the Captain wanted him to, though. 

Although Piers was more comfortable mentally, he still refrained from talking too much as he ate his fill and guzzled another couple beers. The familiar feeling of gravity deepening and the detached sense of self set in, his limbs heavy as droopy eyes watched his cohorts in interest. Six glasses down and he finally felt at ease, peeling off his coat and relaxing in his chair. Yup, much better. 

“So...lieutenant,” said Marco, adorning an impish grin, “I have a personal question for you, if you’ll let me.”

Piers was tempted to tell the explosion specialist to have a nice cup of go fuck yourself, but his curiosity of what his question would be won over. “And wha…”—Nivans ignored the soft laughter at his slight slur—“would tha’be, Marco?”

“What gets you off. We’ve all been wondering for awhile now,” answered the drunken soldier, making the other guys look expectantly to Piers. “You don’t talk about girls, you don’t talk about guys. We’re just curious, no big deal.”

The lieutenant was definitely going to tell Marco to go fuck himself, but his mouth thought otherwise and blurted, “Bisexsual.” Shit!

Chris couldn’t stop the surprised look on his face, turning a little more to face the young ace. His temptation for the sniper, coupled with the alcohol coursing through his system, peaked dramatically at this information. 

“You owe me ten bucks, Keaton!” proclaimed Marco in victory.

“Dammit!”

“Wait—I wanna hear more,” said Ben as he swiped his arm across the table. “You gunnin’ for anyone or what?”

“Like I’m gunna tell you ruffians,” puffed Piers as he crossed his lean arms in stubbornness. At their consistent (and loud) whining, the sniper growled, waving his hand in the air to silence them. “Why’s my love life a concern of yurs, anyways?”

Carl took the chance to answer that one. “You’re like a robot, it’s hard to believe you have a crush on anyone.”

“What’s that suppose t’mean?!”

“I’m curious too,” piped up Chris. Leaning across the table, he propped up his head with one hand, still stable despite how many beers he downed. He might’ve been setting himself up for failure with having an interest in the sniper, and his jealous tended to get the better of him, even sober...but he still wanted to know. Desperately.

Rooted, Piers thought for a second, his open, thoughtful face adorable. Thanks to the beer, a soft, rosy blush lingered on his cheeks and gave him a measure of innocence Chris never saw before. Groin tightening, Chris forced a degree of self control, particularly since he didn’t want to get a boner in the middle of the busy bar.

“Well…” sighed Nivans, easing back into his chair again, “unlike you ingrates, he’s a real soldier. Big, burly, and mean in battle, like a wild animal.”

Chris frowned a little, a pang of resentment echoing in his heart. So whoever-they-were was male. 

“Is this your fantasy, or…?” asked Reid all-too-seriously.

“He’s real!” barked Piers with bared teeth, glaring at him with a passionate air. “He works for the BSAA!”

Of course he would have to, thought Chris, knowing how little Piers actually got out versus spending time in the office or on the field. Blinking, the Captain realized it was likely to be someone in their same building, possibly close to their office. He mentally tried to go through a list of faces who dropped by their tiny office more often than others. There were a few in Beta team, as well as Echo...

“Well, what does he look like?” wondered Ben as he leaned in.

“I can’t give you all th’details…” Piers grinned involuntarily at the thought of his love interest. “but he’s big. And hot. Hotter than all you derks.”

“Derks, huh?” chuckled Marco. “I think you mean jerks.”

“He’s got dark hair n’eyes...hmm...what else…”

Keaton huffed. “Everyone has dark hair and eyes.”

Nivans thought for a moment, his blush growing darker, “He’s handsome, you know. Top shelf. An’ he’s nice. He doesn’t throw his weight’round just ’cause he has it.”

“Hot people are always hotter when you find out how nice they are,” hummed Jeff with a cheesy grin. 

Chris chewed at his bottom lip, his gut tensing a little at that. Piers wasn’t exactly an ugly duckling, either, and no doubt whoever they might be would take him up on a date, if the sniper asked. What with Nivans’ boy-next-door mannerisms, things could get heated fast...despite all he said before, Chris was full-blown jealous. Piers was his ace sniper, dammit, and didn’t have the time for unnecessary flings (unless it was with the Captain, of course). Once he found out who this jerkoff was, Chris was going to make his life hell.

“So why haven’t you bothered asking him out yet, huh?” asked Marco, stating the question of the year. “You obviously seem hot n’ bothered for him.”

For a second, Piers didn’t answer as his bashful eyes fell to his empty plate. Chris at least could thank whoever might be hovering in the clouds above that Nivans had social anxiety, otherwise they might’ve been dating already. The mere idea set the Captain on edge as he sat up, subduing his anger by straightening out his dark grey coat. 

Finally, the ace sniper grumbled, “I’m practically married to th’BSAA, don’choo know?”

“That’s not a very good excuse.”

“Iss not an excuse!” snapped the lieutenant. 

“Aw, c’mon, Nivans,” said Reid in a pushy tone, “what’re going to do your whole life? Take a little chance. That’s what we fight for, isn’t it?”

Chris took another swig of his beer so he didn’t feel the need to choke Reid for the little comment. Whoever this asshole was who stole Piers’ attention would have to suffer, because the Captain wouldn’t allow it. Somehow or someway, he’d make sure he got the jump on the sniper first. At least, that’s what the alcohol dominating him told him to do.

“You juss want more gossip for your lack of action, Reid,” retorted Piers, a single brown eyebrow smoothing up his forehead.

The rifleman’s dark blue eyes darted off in defeat. “Tell me about it.”

“He has a point,” said Marco with a haughty smirk planted on his features. “You could just be a hermit your whole life...or enjoy remembering just why we fight. Maybe you’ll chill out a little, too.”

“You’re asking for it,” growled Piers, on the verge at chucking his fork at the cheeky explosion specialist. “Well, even if I did, none of you will get any of th’details. You’ll have t’live your dried-up sex lives through someone else.”

Indeed, having got their fill of delving into the lieutenant’s personal life, the conversation drifted elsewhere. As they laughed and bantered between each other, the older Captain was lost in a world of burning jealousy towards Piers’ love interest. He should’ve been happy for the young sniper to have found a distraction, something to give him life and love and adoration as he deserved. But what if...the guy is an asshole? Although Nivans didn’t seem the type to settle, it was still a possibility, something that brought out his inner demon. If he were to hurt Piers…

Glancing at the ace, Chris sensed his stomach twist into knots, the boy enjoying himself now as he laughed at some joke Reid made. It’s not fair…

Over the course of the hour, the Captain guzzled even more alcohol in a futile attempt to rid himself of the simmering envy dwelling in the back of his mind. Every time he tried escaping it, he discovered himself thinking if he only had one date with Piers...he could make the sniper forget that asshole even existed. He knew he could treat Piers right...after all, they weren’t just friends or part of the same team...they were partners.

“Captain?”

Blinking, Chris snapped out of his thoughts to realize Alpha team was putting on their jackets. The Captain was so out of it, he didn’t even noticed they paid, left a tip, and were now ready to go.

“My bad,” he said, getting to his feet.

“Don’ worry,” replied Piers as he fumbled to get an arm through the sleeve, “you can get me coffee in the morning.”

Grinning, Chris (although rather drunk himself) helped Piers get his olive-drab jacket on, savoring the little touches more than he should’ve. The large group of men stumbled out of the bar, loud and still giggling in the half-empty parking lot, save for Carl who was the designated driver. Chris offered his keys to the blonde rifleman, before the Captain helped Piers into the back seat of his truck. The ride was a short one as they pulled into the on-base apartment units, Chris sensing his anticipation growing. In his drunken mind, he knew he had to confess his feelings before Piers got the courage to ask his so-called crush on a date.

Heart pounding, Chris wobbled a bit on his feet as he pulled himself out from the cab. The BSAA Headquarters was dead silent, save for the ruckus Alpha team was making as they all split ways to their separate dorm rooms. 

“Here you are, Captain,” said Carl as he returned his keys. “Monday morning, huh?”

“You bet, see ya then,” answered Chris. Behind him, Piers hummed as he leaned against the side of the black Dodge, digging into deep jacket pockets for his dorm keys. 

“The feck…” he grumbled, peering into the deep pockets. “Whur they go?”

“Puh...Piers…” started Chris nervously, his heart speeding up even more. Hopefully I don’t have a damn heart attack before I confess anything.

Swinging his attention upward, Nivans’ beautiful, young face looked at him expectantly. “Yessir?”

Swallowing the fear in his throat, the larger male said, “I...wanted to talk to you. Want to come up to my apartment?” Apartment was a stretch, but officer quarters were certainly larger than NCO’s, which were basically a cot, a desk, and a bathroom. 

Piers’ cocked, boy-next-door grin set little butterflies free inside Chris’ gut, with no hope of getting them under control. “Sure, Cap’,” he answered, lifting himself upright in a single, smooth motion. Even drunk and the sniper was graceful to an inhuman degree.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Resident Evil 6. 

Together, they wandered up the bleak concrete staircase, stark shadows contrasting hard with the gleaming scones perched on every floor. The Captain’s dorm was second-to-the-top, and left Chris to think of all the ways he could fuck this situation up. Dammit, get yourself under control Redfield. After all, he faced Wesker without so much the bat of an eye...but, at the same time, he wasn’t trying to win Wesker’s affection. Piers was perfect, strong, and intelligent...and could shoot Chris’ hopes down with one single word. What would Chris do if Piers said no…?

I’ll prove to him. I’m ten times the man to whoever Piers has a crush on...I’ve just been waiting for the right time to ask him. Yes, that’s right. 

“Oh—shit,” giggled Piers from behind the Captain.

Chris stopped and turned around, Piers wavering with unsteady feet as he caught the handrail. 

“That last shot’s kickin’ in, sir, sorry…” Nivans shot another one of his adorable, embarrassed grins at Redfield. It went straight through the larger man’s heart like a bullet, begging Chris to steal that smile with a hard, dominating kiss.

“Uh...hm, right,” said Chris, offering his hand. “Here.”

Piers chuckled again as he folded his fingers around the Captain’s, sending sparks straight to the Chris’ groin. The kid has it out for me, thought the hulking male. The heat from the contact only sought to make it worse, too, as Redfield tugged his sniper along. Piers’ hand was warm and small in his giant palm, and Redfield had to ward off the temptation of skimming his thumb over the sniper’s knuckles. However, walking still proved too much for Piers and Chris had to lunge to catch his partner before he dived into the unforgiving staircase. Despite almost losing his front teeth to the edge of a concrete step, Piers only laughed harder as he sagged against the Captain. 

“How much did you drink, Nivans?” asked Chris, being particular to keep any emotion from his voice. Wrapping a thick arm around the sniper’s shoulders, the Captain couldn’t give a rat’s ass at this point—Piers’ young, hot body was pressed firmly against his own and Chris was quite enjoying the moment. But, he still had a lieutenant to watch out for. 

“Uuumm...well...like four r’five beers...and that shot o’whiskey that Marco got us...oh, and the shot at the end…” Giggle.

Jesus. The kid was capable of holding his liquor, though, and that alone impressed Chris. Most veterans of the BSAA couldn’t even handle a few beers.

“Well, just hold onto me, I don’t need you getting a concussion also,” mumbled the Captain. 

Piers blinked up at him with all the innocence of an angel, blindsiding Chris with, “Well, you could jus’ carry me.”

For a second, Chris sensed all rational thought leave his muddled brain. C...carry him… What was more affectionate than carrying someone up to a warm bed? No doubt his young subordinate would fall for the Captain after being scooped up and swept off. And although Piers was leaner and shorter than Chris, the sniper wasn’t a small guy...he doubted Piers’ crush could carry him up a staircase.

“I get it though—” said Nivans, leaning away from the Captain and going for the handrail again, “cooties and stuff. Plus, what I said at the bar. I get if my sexuality bothers you.”

Wait, what? Did Chris just lose his chance? No.

“Piers,” grunted the Captain, an arrow of frustration piercing his chest, “do I seem that shallow? Look at me and tell me that I’m that shallow.”

Nivans’ hazel eyes opened wide and his cheeks went pink. Chris, just to be sure, kept his arm fitted around Piers’ scrunched shoulders, not allowing his sniper to escape that easy. Despite himself, the Captain was glad to be halfway sober and his brain still intact—he almost let Piers slip right through his fingers. While Piers was distracted with embarrassment, Chris took the opportunity to lean down and gather the sniper into his massive arms. A small, yet cute gasp fled from Piers’ lips as he instinctively wrapped his arms around the Captain’s powerful shoulders.

Shit, I could get addicted to this, thought Chris. Nivans’ slender arms hugging the Captain’s bear-like frame to him, his nose almost brushing Chris’ neck, and the too-good-to-be-right feeling of the sniper clinging to him was addicting. There was no other word for it. It was fight between his groin, his mind, and his heart of just taking Piers right then and there or marching up the last few flights and taking him in the safety of the apartment. Just a little longer. 

With a thick swallow, Chris pulled out his last card of self control and proceeded up the stairs as Piers leaned his head against his Captain’s shoulder. 

“Mm, I guess those guns aren’t for nothin’,” said the sniper with a slur more apparent than ever. 

“For this reason more than others,” returned Chris. 

Nivans cast his eyes down for the rest of the way while the Captain tried to think of everything he would do after getting into the apartment. Carry Piers inside...place him on the couch...no, just go straight for the bed...or was that too straightforward? Yes, rest him on the couch and then help him remove his coat. What else could Redfield do to charm him? Maybe get him some water, just for his sake. Then, Chris could sit across from the young sniper and passionately admit his feelings. How would Piers deny that? 

Shit, grumbled Redfield. 

With truck keys still in hand, it was easy for Chris to unlock the door once he reached the correct floor. Piers was still rather quiet, and the apartment was dark and warm from a single golden lampshade thrown in the far corner. As per usual, Chris’ apartment was an empty, barren place with only a short couch, coffee table, lamp, and TV in the living room. Even the ultra-clean kitchen made it looked like no-one lived here—and it was mostly right. Chris spent about three-fourths of his year out in the field, with the remaining half in the office, leaving little time to be spent in his “home”. 

“Ah, so clean,” remarked Piers, but didn’t even bother to lift his head. 

“Here,” murmured Chris, using slow and deliberate movements to ease Nivans onto the bland, navy-blue couch. 

A low hum left the sniper as he got comfortable. Chris hastily removed his own shoes and coat, trying to remember the routine he had planned in his head. As he walked into the kitchen, the Captain realized he forgot to take off Piers’ coat—so, eager to do so, filled a glass with water and quickly returned to the living room. 

Upon looking at the lieutenant, though, a measure of relief returned to Chris: Piers’ head hung back as he hugged a pillow to his stomach. The picture was a clear message that Nivans wouldn’t be able to speed out of here anytime soon. 

“Maybe you should just stay the night,” suggested the Captain in a nonchalant manner, or as much of one as he could muster.

“Maybe...my apartment’s only one flu…flur...floor...down,” Piers pointed down below, and then added, “plus, I don’ wanna wake you up…”

“It’s not that big of deal,” answered Chris, tapping the glass with his finger. Leaping for the risk, he murmured, “Here...let me help you with your jacket.”

Without a protest from Piers, Chris set the glass on the table and leaned over the couch. Nivans straightened, allowing the pillow to fall to his side as he yanked at his coat to come off. Chris tugged the sleeves off, his fingers brushing the sniper’s toned shoulders. Even simple touches sent his hormones into overdrive, urging him to get to the good part already. The thin BSAA shirt did nothing to try and hide Nivans’ hard-earned figure, the faint lines of his hardened core and chest obvious even in the shadows. 

Fuck me. Taking Piers’ jacket, he hung it up on the wall. 

This is it. There is where I’ll get him. A second hard swallow and Chris returned to grab the glass of water, seating himself next to Piers. Their legs were touching, and Chris slid an arm over the back of the couch, indirectly putting it behind Nivans’ head as well. 

“Here,” he instructed in a firm tone, not giving Piers room to debate.

The sniper scratched the side of his head with uncertainty, and then reached out, putting his hand over Chris’ and drawing the glass close. After he was done, the Captain would bunch Piers close again and then…

Taking a breath, Piers giggled and said, “My crush takes such good care of me.”

….What?

Chris’ heart dropped in his chest like a rock. “Your crush…?”

“Yeah.” He giggled again, downing the rest of the water.

The Captain couldn’t decide if he should be annoyed or provoked by the fact that Piers was bringing up him of all times. Then again, it was Chris who wanted Piers’ affection...not the other way around. Rather than fall prey to the sudden need to gain dominance over Nivans’ piece-of-shit crush, he decided to do it the civilized way.

“Speaking of...who is this guy?” asked Chris as he stiffly got to his feet to fill the glass with water again. “Being your Captain, I think I should know. For safety reasons.”

Even Piers didn’t believe such a ridiculous lie and burst out laughing, making the heavier male flinch at the idea that he might’ve been caught. 

However, Piers simply said, “I don’ think you have to worry ’bout that.”

Chris froze with the fridge door halfway open. What the hell did that mean? Forcing himself to move, he poured the water as he tried to figure out Piers’ riddle. Didn’t have to worry about Piers’ crush…? Did that mean he would never go after the guy? Well, good news for Chris, but…

Wait…

What if he’s on ALPHA team?! The horror struck the Captain like a lightning bolt. And then the rage swept in faster than a fire storm. Redfield wanted to wake those drunken assholes up right now and see which one had the balls to even attempt for Piers’ hand. And then he would beat the living piss out of them. Returning to the living room with steam almost coming out of his ears, Chris slammed the water down on the table a little harder than he meant to. 

“Captain…?” Piers wasn’t so blind as to not notice the sudden change in Chris’ demeanor and was staring up at him with creased eyebrows. 

The Captain glanced down at the innocent curiosity over Nivans’ perfect features and his anger tripled in a matter of seconds. Full-blown jealousy had his mind tight in its hold and wasn’t prepared to let go anytime soon.

“I don’t think it’s such a good idea,” rambled Chris, his emotions taking over. 

Piers cocked his head. “What isn’t a good idea?”

“This crush of yours,” stated the Captain, plopping himself down on the table. It creaked in protest. “It’s a distraction.”

“So? Keaton goes out every night to hit up girls and brings them back on base! How is my crush any more distracting than that?” snapped Nivans, sobered up a little thanks to his annoyance.

“I don’t expect so much of Keaton—or any of the others for that matter—that I do of you,” returned Chris as he crossed his arms, attempting to be imposing. He might not be able to control the sniper’s crush, but Chris could control Piers’ schedule and it was about to get a lot busier. 

By Piers’ abashed expression and giant, angry eyes, it was obvious the “new rule” didn’t sit too well. “What?! How is this even fair?! The Beta team’s—”

“The Beta has their own protocol and procedures that adhere to their schedule and necessities,” rebuked Chris, “and if they’re more interested in other things than the mission, then that’s why they’re in Beta. You want to be in the Beta team, Piers?”

Nivans was floored. “I worked my ass off for six years to get on Alpha team—!”

“Then like I said,” snapped Chris as he got to his feet, “you don’t have time to have little flings that would probably get you some STI or something anyway.”

Piers was at a loss of what to say—with the alcohol coupled on top of it, all he could manage was a few false starters on a good rebuttal. 

And then he did something Chris didn’t expect.

“You know what, Captain Chris Redfield?” Piers was flushed with rage, swaying to his feet and pointing an offensive finger at his superior. “Fuck you. I’m gonna go out right now to some sleazy little bar and get myself a one-night-stand! You can’t control every second of my damn life and...and...yeah! FUCK you!”

“Piers—!”

“And you know what else, Captain America? You can stick the Alpha Team where the sun don’t shine because I QUIT!” With that, Nivans whirled around (almost doing a faceplant on the floor in the process) and stomped to the door. 

Chris expected a wave of fear to slap him in the face, but rather, his shock rapidly dwindled into a smoldering, furious need to shove Piers against a wall and show him what it meant to be called Captain.

With a growl, Chris marched after the lieutenant and snatched his arm before he could reach the door. A less-than-gentle yank on Piers’ arm sent him tumbling back, causing the young sniper to yelp in surprise. Chris didn’t give Nivans a chance to recuperate, either, as the heavier male grabbed both of his lean biceps and pushed him against the hallway wall. 

Piers was furious, struggling for freedom. “What are y’doing, ya crazy—fucking—Captain—!”

Using a single hand, Redfield took a vice grip to both of the sniper’s skinny wrists and pinned them to his chest. With his right, Chris cupped Piers’ smooth jaw and forced those hazel eyes to connect with own brown ones. 

“I’m crazy because you make me this way,” snarled Redfield, and then did what he’d put off for far, far too long. 

Piers’ struggling halted dead as Chris crushed his lips against the lieutenant’s sweet mouth. Nivans didn’t even put up a fight as the Captain pried his jaw open, penetrating the hot cave of Piers’ mouth with his tongue. Deep, intense, and imperious to the absolute. He’s mine. One knee propped up between the sniper’s legs, just so Chris could feel the bulge of Piers’ groin against his skin. A haze of trembling lust blurred the thoughts in Chris’ mind as he dominated every corner of Piers’, for once having the lieutenant under his control. The hard edge of the kiss dulled as Chris suckled Nivans’ bottom lip, and then returned to folding his tongue over the other. It felt so good, the Captain had to wonder if he was dreaming. 

Chris was out of breath as he withdrew, and a pang of yearning hit him hard to return for seconds. 

Flushed and panting, Piers looked delicious enough to devour on the spot, his lips reddened and his eyebrows creased. Then, he glared up at the Captain through his dark eyelashes. Jerking one hand from Chris’ hold, he punched the larger male with a swift, brutal motion.

The alcohol still in Redfield’s system numbed some of the blow, keeping the shock at bay. He supposed he deserved that. 

“You asshole.”

Chris glanced dangerously back at Nivans, who appeared to be fighting between holding his ground or cowering beneath the dark eyes of his Captain. Ducking down again, Chris threw Nivans over his right shoulder as though he weighed no more than a field bag. Piers gasped and instantly began to revolt, punching Redfield in the back and kicking his legs. Chris strangled both of Piers’ ankles and the punching was a joke, really—Jill could punch harder for fuck’s sake. 

“Put me down! Captain! I have a sleazy bar to go to, remember?! Put! Me! Down!”

Chris trudged to the bedroom, and the anticipation kicked in a like a bucking horse. The hard-on was there before he even slung Piers against the bouncing mattress, straining painfully against the material of his jeans. The cot creaked as Nivans propped himself on his elbows, but Chris shoved him down flat again and hovered over him. His massive chest blocked out everything else from view, and Piers stared up at the Captain in nervous anticipation of what he would do next. 

Taking both of Nivans’ wrists into his hand again, the lieutenant gasped as Chris ripped off his own belt and tied them together. Using one of the metal rods of his cot, the Captain tied a knot, effectively rendering any escape useless—unless Piers could rip off metal bars. 

“Wha...what the hell, Chris?!” exclaimed the sniper, tugging at the restraints. “Captain I-don’t-think-a-crush-is-a-good-idea!”

Clenching his jaw, Chris growled, “You’re my partner.”

Piers’ hazel eyes widened in the darkness of the room. Taking a step back, Redfield flicked on the lamp next to them—he wanted to see everything. Every little change in emotion, every line of muscle definition, every curve of bone. Chris was already tugging of Piers’ shoes, the sniper mumbling his grievances as Chris traveled up to his belt. It seemed to take forever; forcing open the loop of the leather belt, jerking it from Nivans’ jeans, throwing it to the side. Plucking the button open, gripping the edges and yanking them down, smoothing his hands over the soft material of his briefs…

“Cap...Captain...wait…!” Piers was red as a tomato, caught between being furious or terrified. 

“Sorry,” muttered Chris as he nudged his finger over the lip of his briefs, “I used up all my wait over the past few years.”

“No...wait…!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chris is dense. Hahaha

**Author's Note:**

> This will probably be a three-long chaptered thingy. I've had the first two chapters done and figured I should finish and publish it. Why the heck not? :D I also wanted to mention that I read RedfieldandNivans' "For the Moment" story again and got a little Chris and Piers buzz ^^


End file.
